


Rain Check for a Rainy Day

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Wincest Drabbles [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Dean Winchester, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Fluff, M/M, lazy day in the bunker, omg that’s a tag that’s adorable, sleepy!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22370599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: Just read the tags y’all. It’s Sam and Dean being cozy in the bunker cuz it’s rainy and cloudy and my boys deserve some down time cuddling and shit
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Wincest Drabbles [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1008993
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	Rain Check for a Rainy Day

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this in my notes since Idek when. If I hadn’t sent it to kaen an hour ago I probably would’ve continued procrastinating posting this 🙄 I have another one that’s more smutty but also needs more editing, and that’s been gathering dust since May of 2018 (Cuz its 2020 and that means 2018 was two years ago now what)  
> Also yes I’m also working on a wincest coda to the trap idk when it’ll be out but rest assured it should be sooner and no I haven’t completely dropped off the radar I am still writing... just... not as quickly as I’d like

Let’s do a rainy day, ignoring that it’s Kansas, because we don’t get much of those — so Sam and Dean take advantage of it, because why not? Sure, maybe there’s a hunt out there, and Baby’s trusted wheels have gone through worse and came through as a winner and not just a survivor, but it’s cloudy and muggy and overall lazy, dammit, so Dean’s gonna bundle up and Sam’s gonna have to ditch the books and stick with him, or so help them both.

So anyway. It’s a rainy day, discovered when Sam went out for his morning jog and came back half of his usual time later, drenched and looking none too pleased about it. Dean, bleary-eyed and almost face planting his coffee because try as he might he actually can’t fall asleep without the Sasquatch shaped dent on his bed being filled in, immediately perks up, and snorts into his coffee at the sight of his disgruntled little brother. Sam flips him the bird before stealing his coffee — Dean manages to pinch his ass for that, in a surprising move of swiftness that could have belied his weariness — and then promptly disappears to shower. With the one thing that could have maybe convinced him to stay vertical now stolen away from him, Dean begins the long journey of trudging back to beautiful memory foam. Except somewhere his legs must have taken a detour because he finds himself sitting on the bench in the bunker’s showers room, and Dean blinks because — when did that happen?

But hey, he’s here, he can hear his brother quietly humming the Celine Dione song that Sam would never admit to loving even though it’s a painfully ill kept secret, and the steam is creating a heady feeling that would normally get Dean in all kinds of the right mood, but it’s also making his muscles all the more loose limbed and relaxed already that he can’t help but slump against the wall, lightly kicking his feet and tapping the bench at his side, nodding his head to the tune Sam doesn’t realize makes his brother do because Dean can actually keep secrets — but that’s a messy subject that requires too much thinking for the atmosphere, and what this atmosphere really needs is Dean lilting to the side... The next thing he knows, there’s a warm, damp hand catching Dean’s face just before his cheek meets with wood. His eyes shoots open, but it’s the only part of him to react quickly. Even then, the moment he takes in Sam’s naked, glistening form, his eyes are already flickering closed before the sight registers in his mind. After that, he genuinely tries to climb to consciousness. His hard fought efforts are ignored by his ungrateful little brother, though, as Sam scoops him up till he’s standing, leaning against the hard planes of Sam’s chest muscles. He’s got one arm wrapped firmly around Dean’s waist, another holding onto the towel around his own to protect his nethers from the cold — because why the need for privacy between the two of them? Still in his own boxer shorts and only that under his Dead Man’s robe, it isn’t a hassle for Sam to lead him to his bed — without any detours — this time. He obligingly gets under the covers, but when Sam starts to pull away, that’s when Dean reaches out, grabby hands failing to latch onto fabric to hold his brother in place.

Sam makes hushing noises, trying to soothe the fingernails intent on marking its target in a way that wouldn’t be a reminder of more fun times. Through slitted eyes, Dean glares, momentarily abated but refusing to give into the call for slumber. Aware of the metaphoric clock ticking, Sam quickly tosses the towel — into the hamper, half asleep or not, Dean will kick his ass if he trashed Dean’s room — and exchanges it for a loose pair of boxers. It’s less than what he usually wears to bed, but more than when he’s in bed with Dean. The clothed barrier isn’t exactly on the forefront of either of their minds, however, when Sam climbs into bed. Smiling, satisfied like the cat that got the canary, Dean immediately draws close, moving so fast across the bed it’s as if he was pulled by a supernatural force.  


And maybe it is, a Supernatural force that keeps him magnetically attracted to his brother without wearing or failing, and he can honestly say that he doesn’t have a problem with clinging onto Sam, not when he knows his brother doesn’t mind. Even more so when Sam needs the contact just as much as well. And it’s that, that has Sam immediately opening his arms and gathering Dean in them, pulling him even closer despite the lack of even a fraction of a centimeter’s gap between their skin, already flushed warm. Later, they might loosen their tight hold, the heat attempting to rival hell’s fire — the hell Dean experienced, as opposed to the icy burn of Sam’s, but that’s also a thought that doesn’t belong here, isn’t needed, not when nothing on earth could exactly compete with hell anyway — and Sam’s limbs threatening to fall off under Dean’s weight cutting off his blood circulation.

But, for now, with Dean’s head contentedly tucked under Sam’s chin, his hair soft from not being subjected to any gel yet tickling at Sam’s nostrils, and their legs intertwined, they find themselves soon to fall asleep yet again. The rain is still pouring hard outside, so the brothers can have this time to themselves. 

**Author's Note:**

> Can I ask for some comments please they brighten up my day and I’m feeling lonely in the Supernatural fandom here why’re y’all so quiet lately?


End file.
